Finn's eyes burned from lack of sleep. How long had it been since he'd last crashed? Two days? Three? Time blurred together in this new world, a never-ending cycle of work, planning, and more work. But hey, at least he wasn't flipping burgers anymore, right?

He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the bustling camp around him. His creations moved with efficiency, building, gathering, doing all the things necessary to keep their little society running. It was like watching the world's most efficient, clothing-optional ant colony.

As he watched them work, a lightbulb went off in Finn's head. The reason his creations seemed to know so much wasn't some magical download of survival skills – it was all him. Everything he'd learned in his eighteen years of life was right there in their minds, ready to be accessed like flipping through a well-worn book.

"Well, shit," Finn muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Guess those countless hours of Discovery Channel weren't a total waste after all."

He quickly pushed away thoughts of... certain other memories his creations might have access to. Some things were better left unexamined, especially when you're trying to build a civilization from scratch.

Over the past few days, Finn had sent a few hundred of his creations northward. Their mission: set up a perimeter around what might become their permanent digs. He'd told them to keep him in the loop with regular updates, like some bizarre tribal newsletter.

Meanwhile, Finn focused on gathering tools and essentials. Survival was the name of the game now, and he was determined to play it well. Or at least not die in the first round.

To his surprise, his creations had stumbled upon hammerstones – primitive tools he vaguely remembered hearing about in his old world. Were they on Earth after all? Finn shook off the thought. It didn't matter right now. What mattered was that these simple stones were a game-changer.

His creations got to work, using the hammerstones to shape other rocks into rudimentary tools and weapons. It wasn't rocket science – just striking the hammerstones against bigger rocks to chip off sharp flakes. But those sharp edges meant they could now cut wood, hunt more efficiently, and even start building more solid structures.

Okay, so the structures still looked like something out of a kindergartener's art project. But hey, Rome wasn't built in a day, right?

As Finn surveyed the bustling camp, his gaze fell on five of his creations kneeling before him. These would be his chosen council, the ones to help him manage this growing community of his. Because let's face it, even with his big brain copied into all these bodies, he needed some organization.

"Alright, listen up," Finn said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I need a council. You'll be my go-betweens, handling reports from the others and only bringing the big stuff to me. Got it?"

He turned to the first guy, a tall dude with shoulders like a linebacker and eyes that seemed to be constantly assessing everything around him. "You're Drew now. Congrats, you're my new chief strategist and combat specialist."

Drew nodded, his short dark hair and piercing blue eyes giving him an air of authority that Finn had to admit was pretty intimidating. Exactly what he'd been going for when he'd created him.

Next up was a leaner guy with a calmer vibe. "You're Caden. You'll be my high steward. That means you're in charge of figuring out where our stuff goes, how we develop, and making sure I don't starve to death. You'll also oversee resource management for building and crafting."

Caden's softer features and gentle brown eyes contrasted with his warrior's physique. Finn figured a less intimidating face might be good for handling the day-to-day logistics.

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Finn's gaze shifted to a girl with long dark hair tied back practically. "You'll be our head researcher and explorer. Lead teams to figure out where the hell we are and how to make better stuff. Work with Caden on that last bit. We need to level up fast if we're gonna survive. Your name's Lyra."

He turned to another guy with a serious expression. "You're gonna be our record keeper. I want you to remember everything – how much land we've got, what we do each day, make maps if you can figure out how without proper tools. Everything gets recorded, got it? You're Isolde."

Isolde, tall and lanky with sandy blonde hair falling over his forehead, nodded eagerly. "My lord, thank you. I can remember everything perfectly, as can all your creations. But this is still a great honor."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what? You all have perfect memory?"

A chorus of nods answered him.

"Huh. Well, that's... convenient," Finn mused. He'd keep Isolde on record-keeping duty anyway. No harm in having a dedicated guy for that stuff.

Finally, Finn addressed the last girl, who had a kind face and an air of calm competence. "You're our new Chief Medicus. Study how these bodies work, experiment, and figure out how to keep me healthy. Daily checkups, the works. Your name's Eileen."

With his council named and assigned, Finn felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Maybe he could actually pull this off without everything going to hell in a handbasket.

"Alright, go do your thing. Let me know how many people you need for your work," he instructed.

The council members huddled together, quickly discussing their needs. Drew was the first to speak up. "I'll need about 500 for defense and scouting, my lord. Gotta keep our borders secure and be ready for anything."

Caden chimed in next. "I'm thinking 700 for resource gathering, construction, and developing our infrastructure. We need to establish a steady supply chain for your needs, my lord, and improve our shelter and defenses."

Lyra added her request. "300 for exploration and tool development should do it."

Isolde spoke up. "200 should be enough to help me gather and organize all our information. They'll work with the other teams and report back to me."

Finally, Eileen outlined her needs. "100 for medical research and health maintenance should suffice. I promise you, my lord, we won't let you fall ill."

Finn nodded, taking it all in. With a moment of concentration, he summoned 3,000 more creations.

As the newly expanded teams dispersed to their tasks, Finn couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "Man, I sound so cool giving orders," he muttered. For all his newfound responsibilities, he was still just an 18-year-old kid playing at being a leader. If his old high school classmates could see him now, they'd probably laugh their asses off.

But as he watched the camp spring to life around him, Finn realized he needed someone to help him keep it all straight. His eyes landed on a girl with an attentive expression. "Hey, you," he called out. "Come here."

The girl approached without hesitation, her eyes curious.

"You're gonna be my personal assistant," Finn declared. "The council will report to you, and you'll keep me in the loop. Let's call you... Gloria."

Gloria smiled brightly, her short auburn hair framing a face that radiated warmth. "I'm honored, my lord. I won't let you down."

The sun was beginning to set. For the first time since he'd landed in this strange world, Finn felt a sense of... what? Purpose? Responsibility?

It was weird, he had to admit. He'd been mostly fooling around at first, not taking it all too seriously. But now, after a few days of roughing it, the reality of his situation was starting to sink in. This was his life now, uncomfortable as it was. He wanted comfort, sure, but there was something else driving him too. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Gloria stood silently beside him, her gentle smile was a constant presence. Finn appreciated her calming influence, even if he wasn't quite sure what to do with a personal assistant yet. Maybe he'd have her fetch him coconuts. Did they even have coconuts here?

Just as Finn was starting to relax, enjoying the warm glow of the setting sun and the satisfaction of a productive day, he noticed Drew approaching. The strategist's face was set in a grim expression that immediately put Finn on edge. It was the kind of look that said, "Hey boss, remember that nice, peaceful day we were having? Yeah, that's over now."

My lord," Drew said, his voice low and urgent. "We've spotted humans beyond the river."

Finn's heart skipped a beat. "Humans? You mean, not my creations?"

Drew nodded solemnly. "That's right. They're not close enough to be an immediate threat, but... there are a lot of them."

Finn's mind raced. Other humans? Here? What did that mean for him and his creations? Were they friendly? Hostile? Did they have pizza?

As the implications of Drew's news sank in, Finn could only think of one thing to say.

"Oh, fuck."